


Kiss and Make Better

by missbecky



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-10 00:18:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11115924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbecky/pseuds/missbecky
Summary: He's used to having some people look at them as they walk to the shop. Two fit as fuck blokes in bespoke suits, what's not to stare at? Today, though, there seems to be more staring than usual.Eggsy knows perfectly well why that should be so. And he doesn't care. He really doesn't. So he's got a Peppa Pig plaster on his face. So fucking what?





	Kiss and Make Better

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [on my Tumblr.](http://missbeckywrites.tumblr.com/post/149484286277/hartwin-fic-kiss-and-make-better)

It's going on mid-morning and they should have been at HQ an hour ago, but Eggsy just really doesn't care. He and Harry got back late last night from a week-long mission in Turkey – not the most fun place to be right now. Waking up this morning in his own bed with Harry beside him was the best thing that's happened to him all week. Even his battered and bruised state doesn't bother him too much anymore now that he's home.

He and Harry had a bit of a well-deserved lie-in this morning, and they had planned to leave right after breakfast, but then his mum came over, bringing JB and Daisy with her. And even though they're going to catch hell from Arthur for being late, Eggsy really isn't sorry. Because he's got a lapful of baby sister, his dog is lying at his feet, and his family is all together.

His mum is telling a story of something that happened to her at work while he and Harry were gone. She's also trying not to stare at the cut on his cheek, a somewhat painful souvenir of their mission, but Eggsy pretends he doesn't notice that. He just nods and responds where he's supposed to, and lets his mum stay in denial.

It's just easier that way.

In his lap, Daisy squirms around until he lets her go. She slides down his trousered legs until she can set both feet on the floor, then she darts over to where Harry sits in the armchair. She grabs hold of his hand and frowns down at his bruised knuckles and the slim cut across the back of his hand. "You got a boo-boo!"

Harry gives her a warm smile. "Yes, I do," he says matter-of-factly.

Daisy looks up at him, her blue eyes very solemn. "Did you fall down?"

"Not quite," Harry says, and Eggsy knows he's thinking about the guy he beat down with his bare fists, the guy who was about two seconds away from blowing Eggsy's head off.

"Daisy, leave him alone," his mum says a bit sharply. Even after a year, she's still not too keen on Harry, although she doesn't say anything about it anymore. Not out loud, at any rate.

"Wait," Daisy says. Her face lights up. "Wait!" She runs for the table in the hall, where Michelle's handbag sits. Daisy has one too sitting right beside it, pink and plastic; it was a birthday present from Roxy, and she carries it everywhere with her. "I got it!"

Eggsy can't help grinning as he watches her run back to Harry, her prize held in one grubby fist. She peels the backing off one of the plasters, then tapes it over the cut on Harry's hand. She smooths it down carefully, fussing a little, her head cocked to one side. Then she presses a kiss to the plaster. "There," she says. "Kiss and make better."

Harry looks absurdly touched. "Thank you, Daisy."

Daisy beams. She turns around and trots toward Eggsy. "Your turn!"

Eggsy lifts her onto his lap. He holds still as Daisy peels the paper off the plaster -- it has the smiling face of Peppa Pig on the back -- and sticks it on his face. She smacks it with a loud kiss and then hugs him. "Kiss and make better," she says into his neck.

Eggsy hugs her back, his chest tight with love.

****

After his mum and Daisy leave, Harry moves around the living room, putting things to rights again. "Does JB need to go out before we go?"

"Nah," Eggsy says. "He did his business before they came over."

Harry puts a throw pillow back where it belongs on the couch. Then he stops, his hand still outstretched; he seems to see the plaster for the first time, and he starts to reach for it.

"Oi!" Eggsy snaps, and Harry freezes. "What do you think you're doing? My sister gave you that. You're not planning on taking it off, are you?"

For a moment he can see the truth in Harry's eyes. Then with a slight shake of his head, Harry surrenders and says, "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Fucking right you wouldn't," Eggsy says with a firm nod.

****

Fifteen minutes later he and Harry are finally on their way to Savile Row. It's a nice sunny May morning, warm but not too hot, but Eggsy carries his Rainmaker anyway. This is England, after all. Better safe than sorry.

He's used to having some people look at them as they walk to the shop. Two fit as fuck blokes in bespoke suits, what's not to stare at? Today, though, there seems to be more staring than usual.

Eggsy knows perfectly well why that should be so. And he doesn't care. He really doesn't. So he's got a Peppa Pig plaster on his face. So fucking what?

As they make the turn onto Savile Row, Harry says, "You do remember we have a meeting with Arthur this morning, correct?"

"Yeah," Eggsy says.

Harry looks like he's about to say something, then he changes his mind. He doesn't say another word about the plaster.

Eggsy's never loved him more.

****

June arrives, bringing warmer weather and the inevitable V-Day anniversary. Already prone to headaches after being shot in the head, Harry seems to suffer from them more frequently these days. His short temper gets even shorter, and he and Eggsy bicker and argue more than ever. Neither of them is sleeping well, their dreams too haunted for any real rest.

Two days before V-Day, Eggsy thuds down the stairs, ready for a night out with Ryan and Jamal. He hasn't seen them in a while and he's looking forward to it -- although to be fair, he's mostly looking forward to getting totally pissed and maybe, hopefully, being able to sleep tonight.

He stops in the living room. "I'm going."

Harry is on the couch, his eyes closed. He's obviously been rubbing at his left temple, but he stops and looks up when he hears Eggsy approach. He even manages to produce a wan smile. "Have fun."

Eggsy stands there for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek. He feels like a complete dick leaving Harry alone when he's hurting. But it's not like his being here is going to change anything. Besides, they need a night apart, one night where they don't get on each other's nerves.

But still. It's _Harry._

"Ah, fuck it," he breathes.

He turns around and thumps back upstairs. He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to Jamal, then goes into the bathroom, where they keep the stuff for Daisy when she comes to visit.

Downstairs again, and this time Harry doesn't bother hiding what he's doing. He does squint one eye open though as Eggsy walks up to him.

"Here," Eggsy says, "maybe this'll help." Gently he smooths the Hello Kitty plaster over the scar tracing its way outward from Harry's eye.

Harry looks up at him, utterly bewildered. "What on earth are you doing?"

Eggsy leans in and kisses what little of the scar he can now see. "Kiss and make better," he murmurs.

Harry makes a sound of exasperation. "Eggsy."

He tosses the paper from the plaster onto the coffee table, sidesteps Harry's ridiculously long legs, and sits on the couch. Not right next to Harry, but about halfway down. He rests his hand on his left thigh. "Here," he says.

Usually whenever he offers this, there's a round of polite protests on Harry's part and quiet insistence on Eggsy's. Not tonight. Tonight Harry doesn't fuss or say anything, although he does look rather embarrassed. That doesn't stop him, though, from lying down and arranging his head on Eggsy's lap.

"Is it bad?" Eggsy asks. He sets his fingertips on Harry's temple and gently rubs in little circles. He can't really soothe away the pain, but he does his best anyway.

"It's better now," Harry says with just the hint of a smile.

****

July goes by in a blaze of summer heat. August is much the same, one hot day bleeding into the next.

It seems only fitting then that Eggsy would manage to blow himself up while on a mission. After all, if you're going to spend the summer burning up, you might as well do it right.

****

He wakes up slowly, not sure if he's even actually awake at first. His eyes feel extraordinarily heavy, and he can hardly feel his body at all. It seems to take hours before he's finally able to focus his eyes and sort things out.

He's at HQ, in Medical. He recognises the colour of the walls and the way the room smells. He's covered with a blue blanket, but it's still cold in here. It's always cold in Medical.

Slowly he turns his head, and it feels like even that simple motion requires ages to complete. But at last he can see the rest of the room. The IV stand, the heart monitor, the chair where Harry slumps, deeply asleep.

Eggsy stares at him for a long moment. He's never seen Harry so scruffy before, clothes all wrinkled and scuffs on his shoes. It looks like he hasn't shaved in days, and his hair falls in limp curls over his forehead. He's slid down so far in the chair that he's going to have one hell of a backache when he wakes up.

Eggsy blinks. He hurts, but it's not so bad. He's had worse. Mostly he just feels strung out, like a rubber band that's been pulled taut and overstretched so it can't go back into its normal shape. Whatever he did (he has a momentary flash of memory, a red wire and a countdown clock), he's pulled damn near every muscle in his body.

That glimpse of memory makes him frown as he tries to recapture it. As he does, he feels something on his forehead. A faint tugging, like there's something stuck on his skin.

It's a tremendous effort to work his arm out from under the blanket. His hand feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. But at last he manages to reach up enough to touch the thing on his brow. It's small, smooth, and one end is curling up. He fumbles at it, misses, then finally grabs hold of it and peels it off.

He brings his hand down, kind of flopping it onto the blanket, and then he laughs. He can't help it. Grasped between his shaking fingers is a Peppa Pig plaster.

He looks up, and Harry is staring at him, his eyes glistening.

"Hey," Eggsy croaks.

"Hello," Harry says.

For a moment they just look at each other. Then Harry is off the chair like a shot, coming over to him. He sets one hand on the railing of the bed and leans in. He kisses Eggsy with a long press of shaking lips.

Eggsy kisses him back. Amazingly enough, it's not even remotely difficult.

At last Harry stands back. "Oh, Eggsy. I thought…" He can't finish, but he doesn't need to. Eggsy knows perfectly well what he thought. He's been there himself, way too many times.

But it's okay now. He's awake and he's gonna be just fine.

He holds up the plaster still clenched in his fist. "Kiss and make better?"

Harry smiles, his eyes brimming with emotion. "Well, it worked, didn't it?"


End file.
